


Loser

by PrettyWhizzer (NargleAdvocate)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, I hurt Michael too much lol, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Drinking, Unhappy Ending, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but with soulmates, the cliche Michael in the bathroom fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-08 19:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NargleAdvocate/pseuds/PrettyWhizzer
Summary: Soulmate AU where your soulmate's last words are somewhere on your body.





	1. Chapter 1

Michael had accepted a long time ago that he would never be in a relationship with his soulmate.

And that was okay! That was fine! He told himself that, day after day, since sixth grade, when he realized the connotations of his soulmate mark. Sometimes, it made him cry, made him sob in his bathroom at 2 in the morning until his throat was sore and he was desperately in need of a hit, but at least he had Jeremy! His best friend, greatest buddy, his player two. Sure, Jeremy would find his soulmate someday, but he was fine with being the third wheel. Maybe he’d become friends with Jeremy’s soulmate too! He laughed at his thought process. Yes, Michael, keeping lying to yourself, that’ll fix the fucking problem.

Problem? He was desperately in love with Jeremy. His straight, not gay, best friend, who had the biggest crush on Christine Canigula. Who Michael was almost sure was Jeremy’s soulmate, even if Jeremy was messing around with other girls, going out with them, leaving Michael without any notice. But Michael was okay with it. Jeremy could make his own life decisions.

Who was he kidding? He was not anywhere near okay with it, and he hated himself for it. He didn’t have the right to be jealous of Christine, Jeremy’s fucking soulmate. Fate hadn’t chosen him, it had chosen her. Yet, every time Jeremy mentioned her, Michael wanted to either punch something or get higher than he had ever before. And that was getting pretty hard to do. 

Deep breaths. Michael took in a deep gulping breath and tried to block out the loud music and drunk people surrounding him. He didn’t even know why he was at the party, it wasn’t like anyone actually wanted him there. He couldn’t even consider it crashing, because he was pretty much invisible to everyone, even with his amazing costume. There went his bucket list. Michael sighed, pushing through the throngs of people and making his way to the alcohol table. Aka a lot of beers and a disgusting orange “special coolade”. He grabbed the first beer in his reach before twisting around and making his way to the bathroom. God, he was already feeling nauseous and no one had even made fun of him yet. What a joy.

Popping open the beer (thank the gaming gods for bottle caps that just twisted off), Michael settled himself into the bathtub and into a sea of mourning his life. Jeremy was gone, his parents were close to kicking him out, it was honestly kind of pathetic. He sighed, downing the beer as fast as he could. He wouldn’t get drunk, he liked to think he had a decent tolerance, but hopefully it would help block some of the depressing thought. Michael pulled his sleeves up and stared at his arm.

Yeah, the beer did nothing.

He yanked down his sleeves and slid deeper into the bathtub when he heard the door swing open. He barely dared to breath, barely dared to look, until the person sat on the edge of the bathtub. Michael could recognize that back of a head anywhere. In some sort of burst of bravery, he lifted his hand up and gripped Jeremy’s arm, which made the other boy squeal like a little girl. He would have laughed if the constant thoughts about Jeremy abandoning him weren’t flitting through his mind like bullets. Michael sat up.

“Sup.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened, and Michael could already feel his heart hurting. “Michael? I didn’t know you were invited to this party.”

“I wasn't! Which is why I'm wearing...” Michael attempted a grin. Fuck, this entire situation hurt. “This clever disguise!”

Jeremy just stared. Michael’s grinned faltered, and he tried again. “You’re speechless. What, Squip got your tongue?” So maybe he was a little bit salty.

“It’s… off.”

“That would explain why you’re talking to me.” Maybe more than a little. “I’ve been thinking about this moment. What would I say to you? I had this really pissed off monologue, an epic journey through twelve years of friendship…. What?”

Jeremy smiled at him. Smiled. Michael could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “It’s good to see you man.”

And Michael hated Jeremy for making him fall over his feet again. He hated him for making him give up so easily, making him so dependent on Jeremy’s attention, to impress him. But most of all, Michael loved Jeremy, and fuck, if that didn’t trump the rest. Michael pulled himself out of the bathtub and leaned against the sink. “You won’t be, once you hear what I’ve found out.”

“Found out?”

Michael tapped the side of his head. “About…”

A dawning look appeared of Jeremy’s face. “How? There’s nothing on the internet—”

“Which is weird, right? I mean, what’s not on the internet? So I starting asking around. Finally, this guy I play Warcraft with... Told me how his brother went from a straight D student to a freshman at Harvard. You know where he is now?”

“Really happy and successful?”

Michael shook his head. “He’s in a mental hospital. Totally lost it.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with…“

"Think man! We’re talking an insanely powerful super-computer. You really think its primary function is to get you laid? Who made them? How did they end up in a high school? In New Jersey? Of all possible applications for such a mind-blowingly advances technology, you ever wonder what it’s doing inside of you?”

“And I thought Chloe was jealous…”

That one stung. “I’m honestly asking!”

“Really? Because I think you’re pissed that I have one and you don’t!”

“Come on…”

“Maybe I got lucky, is that so weird? With my history, I’d say the universe owed me one. And I don’t know about your friend’s brother’s whatever, but if you’re telling me his squip made him crazy—”

“His Squip didn’t make him crazy.”

“Oh…” Jeremy paused. “Well. There you go.”

“He went crazy trying to get it out.” Michael tried not to let his desperation pass his lips. He wanted that thing out of Jeremy, badly, but he could see the danger swirling in Jeremy’s eyes.

“Then I’ve got nothing to worry about. Why would I want that?” Jeremy stood up and stepped towards the door, getting ready to leave. Michael panicked, like he always did, and moved in front of Jeremy. He didn’t want him to leave, didn’t want him to step out of that door because if he did that meant he was going to be leaving Michael again and honestly he didn’t know if he could handle that.

“Move it.” The coldness in Jeremy’s voice made him sick.

“Or you’ll what?”

“Get out of my way, loser.”

Michael froze, his eyes growing wide, barely stepping out the way. He watched, his heart burning in his chest, as Jeremy walked out of that door, and out of his life. Gone. He was gone, and Michael was gone, and he didn’t know if he could handle it. Michael rolled his sleeve up. It made him want to laugh, because what kind of cruel fucker decided this was fair. Written on his arm, in a brilliant gold that always reminded Michael of the sunrise, were the words “Get out of my way, loser.”

Staring at those words, hearing it bounce around in his head, Michael expected to feel sadness, or some sort of emotional that would trigger anything, make him run out of that bathroom and change whatever fucked up fate he had, but all he could feel was a numbness sinking through him. It was like the shoe had dropped, the punchline made, and it was the time after the laughter had died. He wasn’t sure what to do.

“Hello!!!” There was a loud banging on the bathroom door. “Some of us have to pee here!”

Michael mustered up the highest pitch he could, which wasn’t as difficult as he expected. “I’m having my period.”

“… Take your time honey.”

Cursing under his breath, Michael sat carefully on the edge of the bathtub. Last words he’d ever hear from his soulmate. That meant there were three possible outcomes. Either they would never talk again after the party, Jeremy would die, or Michael would die. A part of him hoped it would be the first one. A darker part of him wished it would be the last one.

Jeremy. His soulmate. Michael stared at the grout. He had suspected, but it hurt to have his suspicions confirmed. Jeremy was Michael’s soulmate, but Michael wasn’t Jeremy’s. Michael lifted a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes as if that would change what had just happened, and they came back wet. Fuck, he was crying. He could feel the dull ache in his chest. He was going to die alone, no matter the outcome.

And that sent him off, and suddenly his hand was covering his mouth so his sobs didn’t interrupt the party, and he was on his knees on the disgusting bathroom floor, and he could barely breathe. There was banging, someone was knocking on the door, but Michael couldn’t even pick himself up, he was never going to last in the middle of a fucking mob of teenagers. So he kept crying, and pretended he couldn’t hear the banging, but it kept getting louder and louder until it stopped. Michael was calmer. He had splashed water on his face, and the world wasn’t as fuzzy as it had been a few seconds before.

Then, there was screaming. Michael chalked it up to normal teenage behavior. Not that he was an expert, because he hadn’t been to many parties, but he assumed screaming was fairly normal. But it got more intense, and suddenly he was choking. When he looked up, there was smoke pouring into the room. Fuck. He tried to grab the doorknob, but flinched back in pain when it burned him instead. He glanced around the bathroom, looking for any other way out. No windows. Nothing. He was trapped, and there was no escape route.

He was going to die in a fucking fire. There wasn’t anything to fight back against, like in video games. You couldn’t fight against fire. He was going to die, in a bathroom, because he had decided coming to the party was a damn brilliant idea. Michael doubled over coughing, his lungs growing tight and his throat burning. The smoke grew thicker, and thicker, until he was laying on the ground, screaming in pain. His lungs hurt, so fucking bad, he just wanted the pain gone, fuck. The smell and taste of smoke invaded his every senses and he was getting dizzier and dizzier. He coughed, a few more times, desperately trying to suck in air, before he gave up and allowed the smoke to consume him completely.

Hopefully Jeremy made it out alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy learns about Michael.

“Haven’t you heard? When Rich set that fire, some kid died inside!”

“Fuck, which kid?”

“I think his name was Mark?”

“No no no, it was Michael.”

“Poor dude.”

“Hey, what if Rich set the fire because he knew it would kill him?”

“You aren’t suggesting…”

“But what if he did!”

“Rich isn’t like that.”

“But he was acting pretty insane at the party!”

“He can’t hold his alcohol.”

“He didn’t even drink! Maybe Michael angered him?”

“I don’t know what he would have done. He was pretty nerdy after all. Didn’t he used to be friends with Jerry?”

“I didn’t pay enough attention.”

“Me either.”

Jeremy hadn’t heard the news until he had gotten to school, three days later. He learned through gossip. When he approached Christine that morning, as happy as could be, she had looked furious at him. Now he knew why. His hands shook and he leaned over the school bathroom sink, trying to keep down the nausea curling in his stomach. Hadn’t he been the last one to see him? Did Michael die in that little bathroom in Jake’s house? Fuck, he couldn’t breathe.

“Jeremy…”

“Fuck, shut up, stop, please.”

“This… unfortunate situation is only going to help you in the long run. He was an obstacle.”

“Don’t you dare tell me you planned this situation like you did with Eminem.” Jeremy’s voice grew cold, and his hands squeezed the edges of the sink.

“Nothing was planned in either situation.” Jeremy could see the Squip's reflection in the mirror. “He made an unfortunate choice, with your and other’s help.”

“I, I didn’t kill him.”

“You are the instigator of why he stayed in that bathroom, however.”

Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to let a whimper pass his mouth. “It’s not my fault.”

“You are the one who’s words were on his arm.”

No emotion could ever beat the shock and fear that flashed through him in that moment. He could feel his legs turn to jelly beneath him, and he collapsed to the ground, his head barely missing the sink. He stared down at his hands as they shook. Fuck. Fuck… he… Jeremy twisted and pulled the fabric of his shorts up. He stared down at the golden letters and begged his memory of that part of the night to return to him. He only remembered calling Michael a loser. He let go and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t think the last words Michael said were on his thigh. Of course they weren’t.

“You didn’t know that? Oh well. It does not matter now, we must be getting back to our objective.”

“Fuck off.”

“What did you say?”

Jeremy growled. “I said fuck off! Leave! I don’t fucking want you any more!”

“I am inside your brain Jeremy.”

“I don’t care! Turn off! Go!”

“We have a goal to take care of.”

“I don’t care about Christine!”

“That is a lie.”

“Its not! I…” Jeremy buried his face into his hands, quiet sobs wracking through him. “I just want my best friend back.”

“He is gone, Jeremy.”

“I told you to leave!”

“It is not that simple.”

Jeremy screamed. A small, breathy scream, that was almost out of his control. He dug his nails into his arm. He wanted Michael back. He wanted Michael back. He missed the boy’s jokes, missed his smile, missed his presence. God, he was such an asshole. All for stupid popularity, all to get a fucking girl. It wasn’t worth it. He was an idiot. He wanted to die.

“Jeremy…”

Picking himself up, Jeremy grabbed hold off his backpack and walked out of the bathroom, suddenly silent. He ignored the protests of the Squip and burst through the doors of the school, going to the parking lot. And the world was a blur, he barely felt the action of walking to his house, but when he arrived, he went straight for his target. He yanked open the cabinet door and pulled out a bottle before settling himself onto his couch. Thank fuck his dad wasn’t home for once.

“Jeremy? Jeremy, what are you doing?”

Jeremy popped open the whiskey and titled it up and into his mouth, allowing the tingly warm feeling to settle in his stomach. He wanted to get drunk more than he ever had before. Partly stemming from wanting to get rid of the Squip, and partly wanting to forget everything for a little while. He took another swig when he remembered that before, when he wanted to forget something, he’d go get high with Michael.

“Jeremy, I advise あなたはそれをしないで."

“Can it.” Jeremy drank a little more.

He stumbled up the stairs, trying not to spill the whiskey anywhere. He wasn’t exactly a heavy drinker, but he expected himself to soon be. Just to keep the Squip away. Sitting in front of his GameCube, he curled up and stared at the second controller that was tucked away, that had been tucked away for a while. He wanted to play video games with his player 1 again. But it was impossible.

Fuck, he was going to have to go to the funeral.

* * *

 

Jeremy didn’t know what he expected from the funeral. Maybe more of a turnout, maybe a little more fancy, maybe for more care to be put in it? But there wasn’t.

It was Michael’s mom, who had pulled out her phone a while ago and started texting, Michael’s dad, who stood far away from the coffin, Jeremy himself, who was kind of drunk but still sober enough for coherent thoughts, and Jeremy’s father, who seemed to take the mourning process the most seriously. Jeremy just couldn’t bring himself to look at the coffin. It was too real, too tangible. He didn’t want to believe Michael was dead.

But then it was his turn to talk, and he didn’t have anything planned. He stumbled over to the podium and cleared his throat, glancing to the coffin briefly. There wasn’t actually a body in it. Michael had burned to a crisp. They couldn’t even be sure what ashes were Michael’s, versus just the house that had burned with him. Jeremy swallowed, and tried to blink away the tears in his eyes. It wasn’t working.

“Michael is…. was, my best friend. He, I, we've known each other since second grade, when we bonded over our Pokemon games we were playing at recess. He was unique, and, and, I really admired that about him. He was always true to himself. And, I’m sorry I wasn’t there until the end. I…” Jeremy shifted, and ducked his head. “I’ll always love him more than words can say.”

With that, Jeremy got down and walked (sprinted) away, trying to hide the tears pricking at his eyes. Fuck, Michael was dead. He was dead, he was dead, and there was nothing Jeremy could do. Jeremy collapsed beneath a tree and sobbed. He sobbed until his ears were ringing, and then cried some more. No more Michael. No more best friend who defended his honor, who was okay with anything Jeremy did, who was there for him until the end. Who was his player 1, and was always going to be. He looked up to the sun and wondered how he was ever going to survive past this.

“Jeremy…”

Jeremy needed more alcohol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by request!  
> Haha you thought closure meant happy ending? Yeah, no. (I made myself cry writing this help me)
> 
> The Japanese is Google translate, so it probably isn't anywhere near accurate!


End file.
